He
by Imsii
Summary: seeks salvation in her.


_And this maiden she lived with no other thought_

_Than to love and be loved by me._

* * *

><p>For the first time in his life; Marcus was jealous.<p>

He was jealous of humans – or rather of their ability to_ sleep_. He and his brothers had attempted to do this once; staying essentially in a state of limbo for a century.

Without thought or word time had passed in a single wisp.

This had only resulted in their appearance gaining an unnatural etch of spider webs across their skin and irises, as if they were covered in chalk. The effect had refused to fade. No matter.

He had abandoned vanity long ago.

"Marcus" A sweet voice caressed his ears; a voice that he knew so well. It was the only voice that could make him wish for the pain of burning once more.

For even that pain lacked the strength of this ache.

He could feel her presence; despite not seeing her. That was a pleasure she never gave him, instead a flash of gold ringlets there, peach colored lips pressed against his, or a soft stroke of her fingers against his temple.

She had come to tease him, as she did each night. The delicate scent of lilies caressed his senses; a haze of euphoria wrapping itself about him. It was the few precious moments that made him bask in_ her_.

Never, never would it be enough.

If only he could sleep.

Then he could escape from this world of madness, of grief, of shame.

Why did she insist on torturing him so?

For when the euphoria faded away, he was left drowning in a sea of darkness once more.

The same Marcus ordained "Saint Marcus", the same Marcus who humans worshiped, the same Marcus who was at the seat of power and who vampires trembled before could do nothing. Nothing at all.

If only

_She could be with him once more. _

"Leave me." He whispered.

He wouldn't say her name, not even if he were the only one remaining in the world.

No, he had sworn millenniums ago never to say her name. That was a pleasure he would never allow himself to indulge in.

For he had committed highest of sins.

He hadn't _protected_ her.

She had died while he lived.

No one would ever understand it. No creature of their world would be able to comprehend the depth of emotions that had existed between them. Only the beings that wept at their love from above would be able to have an inkling of understanding.

They had been born again; engulfed by the tumultuous seas of passion.

It was a love that was a sin all by itself; something that threatened to inhale them and never let them go until it gripped their very soul in its hold.

No, no one would ever understand that.

A soft knock on the door drew his attention away from his thoughts. Marcus inhaled in irritation, the haze quickly fading from about him.

_That_ woman had arrived.

Why had he called her there? He hadn't. Rather it had been his beloved brother-in-law Aro's idea to send for her. It was the most distasteful idea that Aro had had in a century.

Marcus had refused to see any soul in seven years, clinging to the shadows of his room.

Aro had promptly announced that she could help him, whispering his idea on the other side of the door three weeks prior.

Reaching for the goblet that rested on his desk, he would slowly bring it to his lips. His parched lips greedily suckled on the crimson liquid. If that woman insisted on seeing him, he was going to tease her with the forbidden fruit.

A few drops of blood coated his chin as he brought the goblet back to the desk. Temptation could cause interesting effects; as his dear brother Caius had discovered. The scent of butterscotch infiltrated the room as the wooden door creaked open.

"Woman"

He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Marcus" Esmé stepped further into the room, twelve steps remaining between them. She was a fairly petite woman; her head would barely reach Marcus's shoulder. Her caramel colored hair was arranged in a gentle bun; a few curly strands framing her face. The rest of her features were bland to him; unappealing for Marcus to take notice of.

Then she raised her head to look upon him; her brilliantly gold orbs meeting stark crimson ones.

Even with the forbidden fruit close to her, her eyes remained pure.

Filled with pity.

He looks away.

It was a change; not seeing burning red irises. Besides the human Gianna who had worked for them, it had been a bit since Marcus had seen one's eyes that weren't red, aside from years earlier when they had gone to meet the Cullen's coven to discuss the child.

The effects of eating a "vegetarian" diet caused their kind's eyes to become a golden color, having a vibrant depth to them unlike the burning crimson ones Marcus and the rest of the Volturi held.

Marcus paused, sliding his gaze to rest on the woman once more.

He had seen those eyes before.

They held compassion; unrelenting and unbearable love for anyone and anything that had access to her heart.

It was the same look that _her_ eyes had expressed.

"Close your eyes." He demanded harshly; forcing the words to emerge from his throat. Weakness was not something that he would tolerate, especially in himself. Startled, Esmé hesitated a moment before obediently closing her eyes.

Tilting his head back, he would slowly inhale.

Sweet lilac mingled with gentle concern.

Not a single trace of fear.

"You aren't afraid of me?" He demanded; his suspicious tone masking his tendril of curiosity.

"You saved my family." Hesitating for a moment, Esmé smiled kindly. "They mean the world to me. I could never be afraid of you, Marcus."

"Such affection is rare among our kind." Marcus stated, hunching forwards slightly. "Why?"

It was undeniable that there was a strong bond between all the members of the coven Carlisle had created. Even Marcus who held a dim view of the relationships between others could see this. The bonds that Esmé had towards the members of the coven were the strongest, ringing true with absolute love.

It was _perplexing_.

"I came from a world of abuse and pain. Carlisle found me when I was dying. He saved me then just as he had saved me when I was just a girl." Drawing a breath, Esme's tone filled with wonder. "When I awoke from the change, my world became centered around him and Edward then. I loved them both from that moment onwards."

The bonds that snaked about Esme's family members was magnificently golden; matching the color of her eyes. It swirled about Marcus, gently tickling his skin.

No, his _coven_ was nothing like this.

Love didn't exist in his world.

Use, yes.

Everything and everyone had a purpose.

But they were all desperately starved of affection for each other. Given the chance it wouldn't surprise him if they tore each other apart without a single thought.

"Were you afraid?"

"No I was happy to wake up to see the man I had always respected. I never thought I'd see him again." Delighted Esmé would shiver; pleasure tinting her voice. "And when Carlisle explained what we were, I was uncertain at first, until he explained that I had a choice. I could follow our natural beast and go with a traditional life style. Or I could try a different way. His way."

Raising his eyebrow; Marcus's lips tightened.

A _choice_.

That was something he didn't have.

"Why? Did you choose…?"

"Carlisle inspired me." Pride shone through Esme's tone as the words spilled from her lips. "Even if the alternatives were easier, I wanted to be at Carlisle's side, always." Absently her fingers would stroke the wedding ring that decorated her ring finger.

"You live this way only for him?" He inquired.

Perhaps there was more to the Cullen woman than he had originally thought.

"No." Slowly she shook her head. "Not just for Carlisle. Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and Bella they're all my children. I find my purpose in my family."

"Bree?"

He hoped she wouldn't catch the bait.

Esmé sucked in a breath, tilting her head downwards. She raised her quivering hand to brush away nonexistent tears from her cheek. Even at the Volterra she still kept the pretense of a human. Her reaction intrigued him. A bond seemed exist there; despite the young newborn having been destroyed years ago. The woman would have barely spent an hour with her and yet had formed a connection with her?

"She would have been my child also i-if the outcome had been different."

_If Bree had been allowed to live. _

"Your children, tell me about them."

Nodding his head for her to continue; a dry hint of a smile brushed across his lips. Certainly he had heard about her "children" before, especially the talented and much coveted Edward and Alice.

"Edward has always thought…differently about us. He considers himself soulless and tried to prove this; running off in a rebellion against Carlisle's way. But meeting Bella changed him." Esmé beamed, warmth filling her voice. "He's content and happy now, especially with their treasure Renesmee."

His chest tightened.

'Mon trésor' _she_ had always called him that.

She had christened him with a nickname; a name that endeared him entirely to her. While he had been her treasure, she had been the meaning of his existence. She had been the root of his happiness and the stars that illuminated his sleepless nights.

"Rosalie…when Carlisle first changed Rosalie, she was meant for Edward. They're more like siblings than the rest of them." Pausing Esmé would chuckle before sighing. "She resents this life and …us sometimes. She resents Carlisle most of all for not giving her a choice in this life." She faltered for a moment, having admitted the truth about her daughter. "Yet she let Emmett in. He's like a loyal puppy, always trailing behind her, never leaving her side."

Marcus was slightly surprised by this.

Esmé did seem to have a mother's intuition about the members of the coven, sensing the same cracks and strengths in the relationships between the children that he had observed from their bonds.

"Jasper…I worry about him. He tries so hard to control his thirst; yet when he falters, he doesn't turn to us for help. He locks himself away, even turning away from his mate at times. At times it seems like he doesn't know his place in our family."

Clearly she was hurt by this fact, coven meaning the world to her.

Or rather her coven _was_ her world.

"At least he has Alice. She inspires him like Carlisle inspired me."

Staying absolutely still on his throne, Marcus's eyes narrowed. The warmth radiating from her words; from the bonds that existed between them made him feel what he hadn't felt in centuries.

_Jealousy. _

"You say family – you belong to a coven. We don't have families." Marcus abruptly interjected; his pupils darkening. How could this woman unsettle him so?

_She had what he desperately craved. _

Stilling, Esmé would steal a glance towards him. Her eyes held silent words of reproach.

She was a wise woman not to voice them.

"They are my family, my sons and my daughters, and my husband. I love them." A frown fluttered across her lips. "Surely you've felt that way, Marcus?"

Oh yes, he had known such feelings, hadn't he?

A low growl slipped through his lips; filling the air. How dare she go this far. Clenching the arm chairs of his seat; beneath his grasp cracks would appear in the tender leather. Was Esmé mocking him? No, sincerity rang true with her.

It was the other woman, his wife, his mate.

This was her way of punishing him for not protecting her. Every word, every thought, every scent was filled with her. Everything was her.

How it tortured him so!

"F-Forgive me."

Raising his hand towards her in warning, Marcus closed his eyes slowly.

His mate's world had revolved around pleasure and euphoria. If she had seen the world that he lived in, she would have waved her hand and called it a dismal, terrible world and gently chided him for falling into despair. Life was a game to be won and a game to be enjoyed, she had always reminded him.

Was this woman a gift from her?

It would be like her to do this. She, above all people, knew how stubborn he could be. If he saw something as true; nothing would shake him from his belief. Just as he saw his life as laid to rest, his future tangled up with hers. When she had died, he had died with her.

And yet this gift was from_ her_.

Foolish, foolish mate.

"_Didyme_" He breathed as he whispered her name, too quiet for even Esmé to hear. Marcus could feel the bond between them withering away. Instead of feeling pain at this realization, he felt a craving as if he were finally awakening from his grief.

Was it possible?

It was rare that a vampire ever changed from their patterns. Once they changed, their habits or passions as a human would turn into obsessions. Their personality would be set; it would never evolve. Blind to the world, Marcus had hopelessly clung to a life he didn't want to live.

But now – now he craved _warmth_.

Her warmth.

Many times he had seen the bonds, the shackles that existed between people. After her death, he had never formed a new bond with anyone, as much as Aro had been keen to see Marcus show even an inkling of emotion towards someone, or _anyone_.

"Woman" He stated simply.

He wasn't a man or merely a vampire.

He was a man above all, only equaled with two.

Still.

Even he had his moments of indulgence.

"Yes?"

"Stay. Tell me more about love."

_Fin. _


End file.
